


And Then They Had Sex

by Inspire_me_to_breathe



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Bit Rough, Bottom Eames, Crack, Dom and Mal being sneaky, Dom/sub Undertones, First Time, Hot guys naked together, Hotel Sex, Humour, Kissing, M/M, One Night Stands, Prostitute Arthur, Prostitution, Sexual Tension, Sexuality Crisis, Straight Eames (but not really and not for long... at all), Top Arthur, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 19:32:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2440310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inspire_me_to_breathe/pseuds/Inspire_me_to_breathe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dom and Mal try to play a trick on Eames by calling a male hooker to his room. They don't expect him to react to their little joke quite like this though...</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Then They Had Sex

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this late at night, plagued by a cold, and with a bit of a headache, so sorry for any spelling/grammar errors... If there are some I'll fix them later :)

Dom giggled with undisguised glee as he punched in the number he’d found scrawled on a urinal wall and waited for the dialling tone. There was a half drank bottle of vodka next to him, which probably explained the hysterical chuckling, and Mal rolled her eyes fondly, before taking a swig. It burned her throat and she ended up choking, which made Dom giggle even more.

“Shush,” he whispered, “They could pick up any- hello?”

Mal obliging muffled her coughing and watched excitedly as Dom placed his order. The older man had a _what-the-fuck-am-I-doing_ expression on his face, but delivered his request with perfectly straight features, only bursting into laughter once, and then he hung up.

“The prostitute will be here in ten.” Dom smirked, “I’ve given them Eames’ room number.”

Mal grinned, “Oh my God! This is gonna be so funny! I can’t wait to see his face!”

“He’s gonna be totally freaked out,” Dom beamed, “When a guy knocks on the door, expecting to have _sex_ with him… what do think he’ll do?”

Mal considered it for a moment, “Maybe punch him?”

Dom pulled a face, “Bit mean. We’ll have to reimburse the guy for his time.”

“Are you suggesting-”

“No! God, Mal. Get your head out of your vagina. _I mean_ , we’ll throw some cash at him and apologise for the wasted trip. What could be better?” Dom asked rhetorically, “Getting paid _not_ to have sex with stranger.”

Mal nodded sagely in agreement, and stood up a little shakily, “We need to get a better view, then. I don’t want to miss a thing.”

Dom blurted out, “To the joint bathroom!” and spun off like Batman, Mal flying alongside him.

They settled down on the lino and carefully cracked upon the door that led to Eames’ room. Luckily, it hadn’t been locked from the other side, and Mal could just make out Eames lying on the bed, flicking carelessly through the TV channels. She exchanged a look with Dom and he shrugged, obviously happy with the angle. From here they could see the whole of the hotel room, even the couch where Eames claimed he had fucked a girl the night before. In a way, this little prank was payback for the relentless flirting of the forger. See how _he_ liked being propositioned by a strange man for once.

Eames finally settled on a sitcom re-run, and let the remote control fall from his hands. It had been a long day working on the job, and he was exhausted. He just wanted to relax and unwind a little bit, and he knew exactly the best way to do that. However, after Dom and Mal’s not-so-subtle comments about the noise they’d heard through the thin hotel walls, Eames didn’t dare bring a girl back to the room, or even do the deed by himself. It was too embarrassing, especially with Dom’s no-sex-before-marriage visage.

He groaned and stretched, teasing out the knot in his upper back. Eames was not tired enough to go to sleep yet, but the television show was crap and there was nothing else to do. Suddenly, there was a hard, purposeful rapping on the door, and Eames frowned before slowly swinging his legs off the bed and standing up with caution.

“Hello?” he called out tentatively, edging towards the door.

In the bathroom, Dom and Mal snickered under their breaths and watched with increasing delight as Eames opened the door.

A young man, probably Eames’ age, stood on the threshold, looking extremely bored. He cast a sullen eye over Eames’ body and gave a minute nod of approval.

“Hi there,” the man smirked, cocking one hip so the tight jeans slipped a little, revealing a small slither of tanned skin, “You must be Eames.”

“And who are you?” Eames narrowed his eyes, feeling defensive at how relaxed the stranger appeared.

The man bit back a laugh, “Honey, I’m your best wet dream. Aren’t you gonna let me in?”

He stepped forward but Eames cut him off, “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he pushed the man backwards, “I think you’ve got the wrong address, mate.” The forger looked alarmed, moving to close the door, but the prostitute side-stepped him and stalked into the room, leaving Eames stunned.

“Hey, it’s okay,” the man tilted his head, “I’ve visited many guys who’ve called me up and then backed out at the last second. It’s usual to be a little nervous on your first time.”

 “What?” Eames spluttered, “I never called you!”

Mal and Dom high fived.

“And yet, here I am.” The man raised an eyebrow, “I don’t want to be rude, but all evidence points to the fact you _did_ indeed call, and you did indeed ask for me to come here tonight.”

Mouth gaping open in horror, Eames exclaimed, “I’m not gay! Why would I call you?”

“Who cares if you’re gay or not,” the other man snorted, “I’m not here to label people, I’m here to have some fun and make some money, both of which I need you for.”

Eames shot him a derisive look and the other man preened under his gaze, thrusting his hip out and raising his chin in a pouty, defiant challenge. There was no doubt the man raked in good business. He was hot, even from Eames’ objective point of view, with sex hair and smoky eyes. His skin looked soft and flawless, and his delicate features contrasted nicely with the light covering of muscles over his torso. The only imperfection was a small scar, more like a cut, it looked fresh, over his eyebrow.

“How’d you get that?” Eames asked curiously, and the other man seemed surprised at the change in subject.

“Some guy tried to jump me on the way here,” he admitted nonchalantly, “No big deal. I took care of him.”

That was… hot. Eames could appreciate a guy who could look after himself, and felt a surge of interest. The younger man grinned at him cockily, seeming to detect the forger’s weakness. Before he did something he’d regret, Eames shook his head, moving past his distraction, to get back on track.

“Look, there’s been a misunderstanding… I’m sorry, what was your name?”

The man grinned, “Arthur.”

Eames blinked, “That’s not a prostitute’s name.”

“Who says?” Arthur challenged, “Do you know lots of prostitutes by name?”

“No!” Eames ran a hand through his hair, sounding frustrated, “Please, could you just leave? I’ll pay you for your trouble, but I don’t want to sleep with you!”

“How do you know?” Arthur stepped closer, “You haven’t tried it yet.”

Eames faltered. The man pushed his advantage and placed a hand on Eames’ waist, gazing up at him with hooded eyes and a coy smile. A bizarre shiver shot through Eames’ blood, and he found himself leaning in to the touch.

“We can have fun,” Arthur whispered, “I’ll let you do whatever you want. You can fuck me, or I’ll fuck you. Whatever you like, honey.” He slipped a finger inside the waistband of Eames’ jeans, “Let me take care of you tonight. You’ll love it, I promise. I can make it so good.”

Eames found himself powerless to move. All rational thoughts were screaming at him to push the man away, to step back, but something else, a deeper instinct that had been repressed for years, was begging him to concede. To touch. To feel. To kiss this man.

Arthur pressed closer so that their crotches were rubbing. He was hard, and he could feel Eames getting harder with each breath he drew.

“Come on, baby. I know you want it. I want it, too.” He let his hand cup Eames’ ass and the older man grunted in surprised pleasure, “Relax. I got you.” His fingers slipped inside Eames’ crack and the forger swore fearfully, almost drawing away but somehow managing to stay.

“Do you like that?” Arthur purred, testing out the limits of his customer, “Do you want to feel me inside of you?”

Eames stared at him, silent eyes wide in wonder. Slowly, he nodded, once, and Arthur smiled.

In the bathroom, Mal gasped and Dom swore.

“Holy shit, this guy is good at his job!” Mal commented lightly, “Do you think he’s hypnotised Eames? I can’t believe he’s agreed to be fucked by a man!”

Dom shushed her, looking worried, “If he’s been repressing gay feelings, this could fuck him up so badly. We’re terrible people.”

“Nonsense,” Mal cried, “We’re liberating him from heterosexuality!”

Dom raised an eyebrow and shuffled away from the door, “I don’t wanna watch. This was supposed to be a joke, not a coming out party.”

“Well, I’m staying put. He’s just taken Eames’ shirt off.” Mal observed as the item of clothing in question fell to the floor and the forger was left painfully on display, tattoos and muscles glowing faintly in the half-light of the hotel room.

Arthur hummed his appreciation, “You’re so hot.”

Eames blushed, although there was little spare blood to colour his cheeks as it was all currently occupied in a different region of his body. Feeling a little bolder with Arthur’s compliments, Eames stepped forward and pulled the other man’s t-shirt over his head.

Arthur shimmied out of it with a grin, and leant forward to capture Eames’ lips in a kiss. The forger stiffened, having a small gay panic attack, before sinking into the embrace and moaning deeply. Their teeth clashed as their tongues slid against the other's, and Arthur sucked playfully on Eames’ bottom lip, before drawing away and wrapping his arms around Eames’ muscular neck.

“What now, honey?”

Eames shuddered at the hints of desire layered through his voice, and pressed his bruised lips against the soft skin of Arthur’s collarbone, “Let’s go to the bed,” he suggested, his hands sliding over Arthur’s shoulder blades, “Make ourselves comfortable.”

Arthur bit his lip in anticipation and gently led Eames backwards onto the mattress, the other man compliantly lying down, propped up on his forearms so he could gaze at Arthur with hungry eyes.

Arthur flexed his muscles teasingly and slowly pulled down his jeans, casting the rough material to the floor and stepping out of them completely naked. Eames’ breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of Arthur standing there, and squirmed at the idea that, all this time, the other man hadn’t been wearing any underwear.

“Your turn,” Arthur batted his eyelashes playfully as he crawled onto the bed in front of Eames. Without waiting to be told twice, the forger yanked off his trousers and wiggled out of his boxers, his cock springing free. It was hard and already leaking in anticipation, and Arthur eyed it lustfully.

For some reason, the sight of another man looking at his cock made Eames’ stomach swoop in a not-unpleasant way. This was completely new, but felt so good. He couldn’t believe he’d been ignoring this side of his sexuality for so long. All those shameful glances, those naughty fantasies, seemed so significant now, as if Eames’ body had been trying to tell him for a long time what it was he truly wanted. Fuck what society said, fuck what his father said, this was so hot Eames was having trouble controlling his excitement as Arthur clambered on top of him, lube bottle in hand.

“Ready?” the younger man asked, hands already palming his thighs.

Eames couldn’t trust himself to speak, he was so turned on his voice felt weak, and so he nodded sharply, impatiently, as his hips bucked up in search of some friction.

Arthur squirted some lube on his hands and carefully inserted a finger into Eames’ hole, massaging the entrance until the muscle gave way to the pressure and he could slowly push in.

Eames whimpered in pleasure, his breath hitching as Arthur hummed in approval. He had never been so submissive before, but the idea of Arthur – hot, experienced Arthur – made him shiver with lust and his brain switch off so much so that Eames couldn’t take control of the situation even if he wanted to.

“That’s good,” Arthur murmured, adding an extra finger. The burn made Eames wince, but Arthur leant down to kiss him with enough force to sufficiently distract him from the foreign feel.

Before long, a third finger was added and Eames’ panting amplified as he wiggled under the weight of the other man. He ran his hands along Arthur sides, skating over the muscle and toned skin, and dragged him closer. He felt like he was on fire; wherever they touched was electric and Eames needed _more_. More friction. More heat. More skin.

“Arthur,” he gritted out, throwing his head back, “ _More!”_

The demand was met with an amused laugh and Arthur removed his fingers. Eames had only time to mewl at the loss before something larger and thicker was filling him up.

Arthur’s cock.

The idea almost had Eames coming on the spot as the younger man drove in with heated force, spreading Eames’ thighs apart and sinking in as deep as possible.

“Oh, fuck!” Eames cried, screwing his eyes shut and clawing desperately for something solid to cling onto. “Godamn it!”

Arthur’s only response was to drive harder, filling Eames up and stretching him out. Their skin burned against each other’s. Their breathing was harsh and laboured, mixed with the occasional expletive as Arthur hit against Eames’ prostate.

“Jesus, don’t stop!” Eames panted against Arthur’s skin. His hips were rocking in time to the other man’s thrusts and he was so hard he might die if he didn’t find release.

Arthur moaned, “So beautiful, Eames. So hot!” He exhaled viciously, “Christ, you feel so good.”

Eames leaned up to sloppily kiss him, mouth sucking at Arthur’s jaw before Arthur realigned the kiss and let him into his mouth. They battled against each other, Arthur straining against Eames’ pliant body beneath him, as the heat increased.

“So close!” Eames swore, one hand leaving Arthur’s waist to grab at his own dick. He tugged it quickly, the pressure building until Arthur’s cock collided with his prostate at exactly the right moment and he came in a violent burst of ecstasy.

“Fuckdamnitsohot!”

Arthur groaned at the sight of the larger man becoming so undone, his pupils blown in wonder, and thrust forward sharply, finding his own blinding hot release.

“Eames!”

The feel of another man’s come in his ass was new to Eames, but in his state of post-best-ever-fucking-orgasm he didn’t mind, and sighed in contentment as Arthur slowly drew out of him, pressing lazy kisses to the insides of his thighs.

“That was awesome,” Eames murmured, “You are amazing.”

Arthur laughed, “Thanks. Not so bad yourself, actually.”

“I learn quickly.”

“I noticed,” Arthur rested his head in the crook of Eames’ shoulder. He pressed a small kiss to the other man’s lips and let his hand rest over his stomach, “I should be going now.”

Eames blinked, struggling into a sitting position, “Oh, fuck! Sorry, I forgot… I should pay you.” He groped for his wallet, which was on the bedside table. “What’s your rate?”

“What do you think it’s worth?” Arthur asked with genuine curiosity, and Eames shook his head in amusement.

“If I were a millionaire I would pay you what you’re owed, but unfortunately I’m not, so I can’t possibly.”

Arthur pouted, “Too bad. Hundred for the night, then.”

Eames fished out the money and handed it over, flushing at the idea of having hired a prostitute.

“Thanks for staying,” Eames said quietly, “You did me a favour.”

The younger man folded the notes carefully and shrugged on his clothes, “My pleasure. If you’re ever lonely, feel free to call me again.”

“I’m here on business. Leaving in a week.”

Arthur winked at him cheekily, “I can count seven nights right there. Maybe we’ll meet again.”

Eames smiled, sad to see the other man leave, “Good bye.”

Arthur let himself out, “See you later,” he said purposefully, his intention clear as he blew Eames a kiss and sauntered out of the room.

And Eames couldn't help smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please leave comments/Kudos :)


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